The Forsaken-Grade Cultivator

It's 2100. 

As one would expect, the worlds of science and technology had advanced in leaps and bounds, reaching heights that would have previously been considered inconceivable. Ranging from the long-awaited innovation of flying cars to vitamins that enhanced human genetic capabilities (G.E.Vs) and extensively preserved youth.

Sentient androids bustled about, ready to cater to human whims and gigantic mechanical wonders that once existed only in works of science fiction had become commonplace.

From the compact firearms now capable of producing the same amount of force as hydrogen bombs, to the enormous planet-encasing barriers; no matter where one looked, proof of humanity's strides towards perfection were evident.

Global warming? Solar winds? Cosmic cataclysms? 

"Cute, but just try getting past the eco-friendly Planetary Domes we've built." 

World hunger? What about the issue of overpopulation? 

"We have our interplanetary farmsteads for that. Also, one word – Mars." 

Ugh, but then surely crime rates have risen, right? What about security? Conflicts? Wars? 

"War? Who's that? Never heard of him. The Unified Nations Confederation (UNC) now has a monopoly over all the latest security advancements. A few deranged petty criminals are all we have now." 

With that said it was quite obvious that scientific discovery has permanently improved life on Earth; however, with all these solutions and technologies, life in the new world has grown rather… dull. 

"What's that? They used a whole island full of real robotic dinosaurs to shoot a movie? Yeah, I saw that last week. Yawn."

Faced with this dilemma of monotony, humanity needed a saviour—one that would flip the horizons of entertainment as they knew it and cure them of the cancer of sameness. One that would reach deep into the grey chasms and fill them with the vibrant colours of adventure and intrigue; fortunately, that saviour was not too late in the coming.

With the advent of the first-ever fully immersive VRMMORPG—Fantasy Online—the world had found its prince charming, and from there…

---

*Earth, October 2nd*

*Darwin University, School Grounds*

*12:43 PM*

"Come on, Vincent! If you don't hurry up, we're going to miss the launch! There's not a single soul outside right now; the others must be waiting for us!" A rather tall youth yelled, his voice bursting with stamina, as he maintained a fair pace ahead of his colleague.

And although he showed no serious signs of exhaustion, the sheer level of perspiration indicated he had been running for quite a distance.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming! Just… give me a second!" Vincent puffed in reply, struggling to not get left behind. He could feel his legs screaming at him as he fought against fatigue. 

Unlike Greg, Vincent looked to be on the verge of collapse, with his thick but short obsidian hair dishevelled and his similarly coloured eyes glistening with tears. He couldn't keep up. 

"Seriously, man, how are you this slow?" Greg chuckled, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "It's like I'm racing against an actual sloth. Do you even train?"

"Ugh, lay off, will you?" Vincent snapped, desperation seeping into his voice. "Not everyone has your superhuman stamina. It's not my fault you decided to become a cardio machine." He felt a wave of frustration wash over him as he struggled to catch his breath. 

It wasn't a matter of an unhealthy physique—far from it. In fact, Greg was the anomaly here, given that both had been sprinting for a whopping—

'Five miles. Five f***ing miles! We get it; you took steroids when you were a baby. Get off your high horse!' Vincent spat inwardly.

"Come on! We got out of class early for this! We can't waste the chance!" Greg chided, maintaining an annoying distance ahead, his tone teasingly competitive.

"Like hell, we will! The launch is at 1 PM! We've got at least ten—no, fifteen minutes!" Vincent wheezed, irritation clouding his thoughts. "Plus, you have a car! Why are we even running?"

Glancing back, Greg gave an exaggerated shrug. 

"You know, if you actually got those G.E.Vs like the rest of us, perhaps you wouldn't be gasping for air like a fish out of water right now."

Hearing this, Vincent shot Greg a glare but faced with Greg's condescending smirk, all he could do was grit his teeth. His ugliness was a reminder that, despite the strides humanity had made, orphans like him, who had spent most of their lives in the slum, still didn't measure up to anybody.

Greg, with his enhanced physique, was a reminder of everything Vincent had yet to achieve. The luxuries of the new world only applied to those who could afford it after all.

'Money… of course, it's always about money… Fuck, Vin, remember why you're doing this.' Giving himself the mental equivalent of a slap on the cheek, Vincent trudged forward.

Had it been any other day, Vincent wouldn't have had to physically exert himself this much. Truth be told, he could be quite the couch potato if left to his own devices. But today… today wasn't just any other random cycle on the Earth's rotational calendar. 

No.

Today marked the launch of one of the most anticipated VRMMORPGs ever conceived! An event that would pull players from their mundane lives into worlds of boundless possibilities, and much like virtually every other human on the planet—two planets, actually—he would be joining the big event.

The new game, an—

"An innovation crafted by the new hotshot entrepreneur who is taking the business world by storm, a game expected to redefine the standards of peak entertainment and lead the way as a highlight of this new era…" Ying quoted a line he'd read from an article, using it as motivation. 

He told no lies.

To the scientists who painstakingly devoted every waking moment of their lives to developing the various technologies of this age, this notion made them want to pull out their grey hairs in frustration, and why wouldn't they? 

Despite all they'd done and accomplished… To think that humanity actually had the gall to betray them like so? Outrageous!

But the world couldn't care less about what those old geezers thought, the decision had already been made, and there was not a damned thing they could do about it.

This was the age of VR gaming, plain and simple… And taking the spotlight as the epicentre of this attraction was—

'Cultivation Climax, the game of the century... What a lofty title, despite only having made nothing but promises up till this point, Climax Co. seems quite confident in their new work.' Vincent mused, but unfortunately, his reverie wouldn't last long.

"Get your head in the game Vin, literally!" Greg yelled out once more, but this time, Vincent paid him no heed. His mind was already set on the future.

With renewed vigour, Vincent pushed his feet harder against the pavement. He had goals which he wanted, no, needed to achieve… and Cultivation Climax was his beacon of hope.